A Necessary Friendship
by adorima
Summary: James Norrington has risen to his former position; his prestige, honor and pride restored, but is his former arrogance? A Caribbean slave girl is brought into his home, saved by James from a hanging all in order to find the way back to Elizabeth.


**Chapter 1: Deliberation**

Rapping sounded from the door.

"Enter." Admiral James Norrington called out in admittance.

A servant held the door open for two soldiers flanking a young colored woman. Her wrists were shackled, her arms and face bruised and her lip split. The two men entered and marched her to the center of the room.

Admiral Norrington rose from his seat.

"The slave-girl sir, as you requested, sir." One soldier said in introduction.

With a pleasant little smile James leisurely made his way from behind his desk to the area before her. He folded his hands behind his back.

"Very good. Dismissed." He ordered.

Faint distaste passed over the soldiers' face when the Admiral said this, but they turned and left the room without hesitation, leaving the slave girl and the naval commander alone together.

The clock audibly kept time of the seconds that passed.

A gust of cool ocean air passed through the open window, relieving the room of a few degrees of heat.

James remained standing before the slave girl, whose head was bowed towards the floor. He on the other hand, kept a steady gaze slightly down his nose at her.

Finally he spoke.

"What is your name?" he asked.

Her lips parted painfully and she answered, her voice muffled through her swollen

cheek," Cesilla."

"Cesilla," he began.

"You are aware why you were summoned here?"

"I'm not certain, sir."

"You were not read the message?"

"I was, sir."

"Well, I suppose I should've had someone who spoke your dialect of uh…English interpret the letter."

"Yes, sir."

"I know someone such as you is not accustomed to being given a choice like this. But I am here offering you an opportunity to partake in a partnership. You were not returned your life for the simple reason of your master's generous benevolence. I have seen that you can be very…useful.

Now that you are completely absolved of your hanging, I assume that you are behooved to display your gratitude through cooperating in the afore-mentioned endeavor."

James paused for a moment, examining her reaction. There wasn't much change from when she had first come into the room, to his speech and afterwards. Of course, she was only a slave girl who could only be expected to grasp so much.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" James queried.

"I believe so sir."

"Hmm."

Her gaze traveled, but never above his collarbone.

"Cesilla is spelled 'C-E-C-I-L-A' correct?" He asked carelessly, his pen poised to begin writing.

"No sir, that's wrong."

James paused for a moment and blinked. He looked up at her.

"Then…how do _you_ spell it?"

"I've always known it to be spelt C-E-S-I-L-L-A, sir."

She answered promptly and James eyed her for a moment, turning the option over in his mind of whether or not it would be more or less troublesome to tell her that C-E-S-I double-L-A was the incorrect way to spell her name. He decided not to. After all, she wasn't English. Or maybe she was partly…but that was negligible.

"Very well," James complied and wrote the name down in his records.

He straightened up when he was done and walked around the table to approach her, this time coming within arm's reach of her. James wanted to examine her and how badly she had been penalized for her crime. It had been dusk when James caught sight of her, sprinting through the brush. It had been pure coincidence, and his luck that he came upon her. And that he found out why she was running away…

He couldn't tell if she was shaking from faintness or fear because the expression on her face was set so still and obscured by lumpy bruises and various cuts. Some of the worse he recognized to have been acquired after her beating - most of it, were obviously from before

Her bruises were conspicuous, especially on her milky brown complexion. James could tell at first glance that she was the product of a few black/white interrelations over the span of her ancestry. What did that one science book called? "'The Conflicted Mulatto'"

The girl's feet all this time seemed to be glued to the same spot she had stopped before his desk when she first entered the room and hadn't moved one inch. James bent over to get a closer look. She visibly cowered. James stopped and withdrew a step.

"Miss Cesilla." James said in his most composed, courteous yet dignified tone, as he would address a subordinate whom he had an aloof association with.

"There is no need to fear even the threat of violence. As long as you agree to the terms, you will not be returned to your master. In fact, I might be able to let you have a bit of freedom."

And there James thought he should smile at her. Although a bit forced, he did.

Cesilla suddenly raised her head at this and James' smile faded quickly when he saw on her face a scathing contempt that revealed his friendly overtures to be in vain.

There was a moment when James, ready, waited for her to attack him with some hidden weapon. Cesilla glowered but made no further movements and finally lowered her gaze to once again stare at the floor.

James met her at close quarters, his stride blowing back her skirt.

"What do you hope to accomplish without my help?" James demanded bluntly, abandoning his niceties.

Her expression remained hard, but she didn't look up.

"You're alive because of me!"

"You can take your help to hell with ya." Cesilla answered.

Before unleashing his anger James took one deep breath and considered this. It was a fair sentiment for someone like Cesilla to have. She was after all a slave and black, a second rate member of society here in the Caribbean. In addition, teenage personalities of any breed were always difficult. She was also recently beaten for her, at best, chancy attempt to run away. And James wasn't so deluded with his status that he didn't acknowledge there was probably something …grievous… done on the master's part that culminated with her escape. He could only imagine what kind of violation it was.

James regarded her for a moment. She looked about ready to loose her self-control.

"Of course," James said in a sigh.

This made Cesilla look up again, her un-bruised eye wide and incredulous. This time he noticed it was a grey-green, the exact same shade as his eyes.

"Perhaps time will allow you to reconsider." James said. "This is a serious decision."

She sneered at him," Ya need this more than I do, Admiral James Edmund Norrington."

"I see you've been eavesdropping attentively to catch my middle name," James said easily, though he was unsettled as to how she knew.

"All this was only a ploy. I know the likes o' ya. Why else would a high-standing white man like you be interested in a slave girl?"

James stood surprised at her sudden gall. His jaw slackening.

"Ya only saved me to save yourself."

Her initial shaking had intensified, her fists clenched in her shackles, her chains rattling. And he could see now it was not from weakness or fear, but from rage.

"That's the only way I know I can get away with what I did. You need me to get where you wanna be, _Admiral_. Now the real question is: am I willing to need you?"

He thought that she was broken, but it seemed as if she only was playing at it.

Maybe because this might not have been the first time someone had tried to use her to fulfill their own ends. Oh, not in the way of slavery. That was her reality. What James was thinking of was someone using her once before to find their way around the world…in order to get to what they wanted the most. James took a deep breath. This was going to be harder than he first anticipated.

He called the soldiers back inside. "Please ready a carriage. I will escort Miss Cesilla to my home."

James faced the window, anticipating shock from his subordinates. Lasting silence ensued. Then one of them spoke.

"Sir?"

"Yes?"

"To the sla-" James spared him a glance.

"- Servant quarters sir?"

"To the servant quarters to tell them to prepare a room for Miss Cesilla, she will be my guest."

The soldier betrayed his thoughts all too readily, his mouth open for words he didn't have. His eyes darted scandalously from the Admiral to the slave girl.

"Well?" James said.

"Sir!" The soldiers hastily positioned themselves on either side of Cesilla.

"This way Miss," the soldier said, gesturing politely.

Cesilla shot one look over her shoulder at James, filled with confusion and suspicion.

James simply regarded her as pleasantly as he could until she the door shut and he was left alone with his thoughts.

"You must help me."

Don't for get to review on your way out! Any feedback will be much appreciated.


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